


Cloudy Park

by orphan_account



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a gruff Kracko named Sturm finds Luft, a lost Drifloon, hiding in the amusement park where Sturm works, the two help each other to better lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sturm sometimes wondered just how he had ended up working at an amusement part.  He didn't like children-- in fact, he didn't like much of _anybody_ \-- yet he had been working security for nearly a year now.  As the large space Kracko drifted down the midway, turning his single olive green eye from side to side to look for any stragglers who hadn't left at closing time, he thought about leaving Cloudy Park.

_I could go live on a mountain somewhere. . . or better yet, an asteroid, back in space where I was born. . . ._   Easy enough to think about it, but no one would pay Sturm to sit around in the wilderness all day, and he certainly couldn't eat rocks.

Sturm reached the park gates-- constructed of large and ornate ironwork set into a wall of clouds-- and made sure they were securely closed, then he pulled a heavy padlock off of his belt.  He fastened the padlock on the gates before turning back to face the park.

Almost everything there seemed to be made of clouds, from the game booths to the food stalls to the rides-- including a Ferris wheel, rollercoaster, and tilt-a-whirl.  The Cloudy Park amusement park had been founded fifty years before by the famous Cloudling brothers.  It catered primarily to Krackos; although all species in Dreamland were welcome, cloudy guests felt most comfortable there.

Glad that his shift was over, Sturm floated over to the food court to pick up some dinner.  His favorite stall, which sold hot and corn dogs, still had some food left, and Sturm hurried to grab the leftovers.

"Evening, Sturm," the stall's vendor rasped.  She was a middle-aged Loud with heavy eye makeup and an incongruous red-and-white striped cap plunked on her top.  "Want the usual?"

"You got it, Elle."

The tired-looking Loud slid a corn dog into a paper sleeve, then prepared a hot dog with extra mustard-- no ketchup-- and dropped it onto a cardboard holder.  Elle scooped up one in each of her small grey appendages and handed them to Sturm.

"Here ya go."  Her dull eyes sparkled just a little, the equivalent of a smile as her mouth, like his, was hidden under layers of grey fluff.  "Don't know how you can eat both of those grease sticks every single night."

"Hey, c'mon. . . I haven't eaten since breakfast!  You know they make us pay for our food before closing."

"That why you always skip lunch?  'Cos you're a cheap bugger?"  Elle chuckled.  "Well, enjoy it anyway."

After saying goodnight to Elle-- one of the few other employees Sturm could stand-- he headed to the back of the park.  Just outside the back gate was a small neighborhood of houses and apartments where most of the park employees lived, including Sturm.  He was just envisioning settling in for the evening with his dinner and favorite soda-- strawberry-- when something caught the corner of his large eye.  

Sturm turned to his right but saw nothing amiss. . . just a large bunch of helium-filled balloons.  They had been tied to a balloon-vendor's cart and left there for the night.  The deep grey Kracko squinted at the balloons, trying to figure out what had attracted his attention.  They seemed perfectly normal: some of them foil and shaped like Krackos, and the rest cheaper latex in a variety of bright colors.  Deciding that the job really was getting to him, Sturm was about to turn away. . . until he realized what was wrong.

The latex balloons came in four colors: red, yellow, green, and blue.  But there was a fifth color in this particular bunch. . . a pale purple balloon, when Sturm knew Cloudy Park had _never_ carried purple balloons.  Sturm's eye narrowed in a frown as he moved over to the balloon cart and pushed the ordinary balloons aside with two of his appendages.

The intruder was a very purple balloon indeed. . . and it had hair.  At first Sturm thought it was just some stray cotton candy or a bit of cloud from one of the attractions-- but no, there was a soft puff of white hair on the balloon's top.  What's more, there were two strings tied to the balloon instead of the usual one.

"What's going on here?" Sturm growled. He reached up a third appendage and grabbed the balloon by its neck.  However, when he pulled it towards him, the balloon turned. . . and Sturm realized it had a _face_.

"Aaaagh!"  The large Kracko let go of the balloon in a hurry and backed away, his security uniform's cap nearly falling off his top.  The balloon yelped as well and ducked back among its colorful fellows.  A moment later, its fearful face peered out at him: two beady black eyes on either side of a thick yellow "X" shape which Sturm assumed was its mouth.  Sturm had never seen any species like it before, but once he was over being startled, he recognized it for what it was: a visitor in the park after hours, which was strictly against the rules.

"Come out of there!" he ordered.  "Park's closed, you'll have to leave."  When the balloon didn't respond right away, Sturm glared and crackled static electricity from a couple of his spikes.  " _Now_!"

The balloon's eyes widened, and it obeyed with reluctance.  Now Sturm saw why it had two strings; they served as its arms and were tipped in yellow, heart-shaped "hands."  Strangest of all, the balloon wore cuffs complete with cufflinks on its strings and was holding a dark violet bowler hat in one hand.

"I-I'm sorry," it-- or he, Sturm assumed-- stammered, speaking from a tiny mouth in the middle of the yellow X.  "I. . . I was just--"

"I don't care what you were doing!  Are you going to leave, or do I have to carry you out?"  Sturm leaned forward and let loose a spark from one of his spikes, very near the balloon's hair.

"I'll-- I'll gooooo. . . ."  The balloon broke off in a wail, tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down his round face.  "P-please, don't. . . don't hurt me. . . ."

Sturm jumped; usually only kids cried around him.  "Calm down!  I'm not gonna _hurt_ you.  You just can't stay in the park after hours."  The balloon only sobbed harder, and Sturm fidgeted.  "Look, what are you doing here anyway?  I didn't see you around during the day.  Uh, not that I see _everybody_ , it's a big park.  But you'd kind of stand out, and. . . ."  He managed to quit babbling, as it was only making him feel more awkward.

The purple balloon was still teary-eyed, but he finally had quit crying enough to speak.  "I. . . I've been looking for a job.  B-but no one will hire me because of what I am. . . ."

Sturm raised the puffs of down over his eye like a giant eyebrow.  "A balloon?"

"N-not just a balloon but. . . ."  The not-just-a-balloon blinked up at him.  "Wait, you mean you don't know about Drifloons?"

"Uh, no."  A gust of hot wind made Sturm glance up at the sky.  There were always some puffy clouds up there, especially piled around the edges of the horizon, but now they were swiftly turning as dark as Sturm's own grey down.  The wind whipped the bunch of balloons around and tangled their strings, and the Drifloon-- if that's what he was-- wobbled in the air.

"Hey, it looks like it's gonna storm," Sturm said.  As much as he disliked people, he wasn't totally heartless: it was obvious that a living balloon wouldn't fare well in a storm.  "Tell you what, why. . . why don't you come over to my place?  It's just right through the back gate there, and you can explain whatever your problem is."

"I. . . I couldn't impose like that. . . ."  The Drifloon looked down at his bowler hat, now held between his little hands.

"Suit yourself," muttered Sturm.  One offer was enough as far as he was concerned.  "But these things can't stay out in the weather either."  Balancing his dinner in one appendage, he used two more to untie the bunch of regular balloons.  "Have to take 'em home for the night," Sturm went on, to himself as much as to the Drifloon.  "Why'm I always the one to pick up after everyone?  Oughta just leave 'em out here to blow away-- _I_ wasn't the one who tied 'em to a cart and left 'em!"  Even as he griped, Sturm gathered up the balloons and started floating for the park's back gate.

"Wait!"  Sturm paused and looked back to see the purple Drifloon hurrying to catch up with him.  "I-- I'll go with you.  Thank you. . . ."

"Mmh."  Sturm gave him a curt bob in the air and went out the gate, holding it open until the Drifloon followed him outside.  After locking the gate behind them, Sturm led his guest to the Kracko's home.  It was in a slightly worn duplex, half of which Sturm rented.  The house's dark green paint was peeling and the yard was overgrown, but Sturm kept his apartment impeccably neat inside.  He was even a little proud to show it off once he let the Drifloon in.

"So this is where I live," Sturm said as he let the bunch of balloons go in one corner of his small living room.  "Here's the sitting room, and of course, that's the kitchen in that half."  He pointed an appendage to the kitchenette visible over a half-wall.  "Then through that little hall is my bedroom and bathroom."

The Drifloon looked around then turned back to Sturm, perhaps wondering how such a large Kracko fit comfortably into such a small space.  "It's very nice.  Oh. . . what's your name?  I'm sorry, it was rude of me not to ask."

"Hunh?  Oh, it's Sturm."  The Kracko went to the kitchenette and set down his hot dog and corn dog.  "What's yours?"  Before the Drifloon could answer, Sturm asked, "Hey, you want a soda?"

"Yes please."  The Drifloon floated over to the kitchen counter.  "And. . . I'm Luft."

"Nice to meet you, Luft."  Sturm took two cans of strawberry soda out of his nearly-empty refrigerator, popped the tops with one spike, and handed a can to Luft.  The Drifloon took it between his two little yellow hands and took a long gulp.  
  
"Mm, thank you."  Luft looked up at Sturm over the top of the can.  "I haven't had anything to drink all day!"

"Well, have as much as you want.  I have a whole case in there. . . I love the stuff."  Sturm chuckled, then his eye fell on his own dinner.  _If he hasn't drunk anything all day, he hasn't eaten either. . . ._   Sturm sighed; he had been looking forward to eating both the "grease sticks" himself. . . but he didn't have any other food in the house, and even he couldn't let a guest go hungry.

"Uh. . . you want something to eat?  I can't eat both of these by myself," he lied.

"I. . . I don't want to eat your dinner, but. . . ."  Luft's small black eyes shone as he looked at the food.

"No, really, you can have half."  Sturm pulled two paper papers out of a cabinet along with a clump of napkins.  He put the corn dog on one plate and slid it along the counter to Luft.  "Here, go ahead.  You want some mustard?  I think I have some somewhere."

"No, this is fine!"  In fact, Luft had already picked up the corn dog and was gnawing on the end.  His little mouth hardly made a dent in it, but his eyes closed blissfully as he ate.  Sturm had to hide a chuckle as he started in on his hot dog.

Despite his initial hunger, Luft set down the corn dog after eating only half of it.  "Whew, I'm full.  Do-- do you want the rest?  You could cut off the part I bit, and--"

"You sure you don't want any more?" Sturm interrupted, already picking up the leftover corn dog by its stick.  
  
"Yes, I couldn't eat another bite!  But, um. . . another soda would be good, if you don't mind."

"No problem."  Sturm took a huge bite of the corn dog that consumed half of what was left as he went to the refrigerator; he wasn't especially concerned with getting any germs from a living balloon.  He grabbed two more cans of soda and carried them around the counter to the sitting room, feeling much more relaxed now that he had some food in him.  "Now come have a seat and tell me why no one will hire Drifloons."  He lowered his fluffy body onto the sitting room's single piece of furniture-- a tan faux leather couch that filled half the room-- and glanced up at Luft as he finished off the corn dog.

"Okay. . . ."  Luft floated over and sat down a couple feet away from Sturm.  The Drifloon rested his bottom-- a ruffly piece of whatever his skin was made of-- on the cushion and dangled his string legs off the front of the sofa.  He took the soda Sturm offered him and took a long drink before he began to explain.

"You see," Luft said, "where I come from, Drifloons have bad reputations."

"Why?" Sturm interrupted, looking down at the innocuous little balloon.  "You don't look like you would hurt anybody."

"And I wouldn't!"  Luft glanced at him earnestly.  "Most Drifloons wouldn't.  But we're ghost-types, so some people are scared of us.  There are some good legends about us-- like that we help lead wandering spirits home.  But then. . . there are bad rumors too."  He fell silent, but now he had Sturm curious.

"Like what?" prompted the Kracko.

"Um, w-well. . . ."  Luft's next words came out in a mumble.  "They say we kidnap children.  That's why I can't get a job anywhere-- people are afraid I'll lead their kids away."

Sturm nearly spit out his mouthful of soda.  " _You_?  You don't look like you could pull off a bag of feathers!"  Luft gave him a wan smile, and Sturm realized he wasn't exactly being sensitive.  "Uh. . . I mean. . . no offense or nothin', but. . . ."  
  
"Oh, it's okay!  No, I'm not very strong," said Luft, "and it's a crazy rumor.  But I guess some parents make a Drifloon into the boogeyman to make their kids behave. . . ."  He sighed and looked down, appearing so miserable that Sturm struggled for some way to make him feel better.

"Well, uh. . . I don't think anyone's heard of Drifloons around here."  Sturm patted him on the back with a fluffy appendage, being careful not to jostle the much smaller Luft.  "I bet you can find a job somewhere on Pop Star!"

"Thank you," Luft murmured, then he jumped as the first crash of thunder sounded outside.  "I didn't mean to break any rules by stopping here, Mr. Sturm.  I was just so tired, and. . . ."  His small black eyes turned to the bunch of balloons hovering in the corner above Sturm's small television.  "And I haven't seen another Drifloon in so long.  Those balloons reminded me of home a little. . . ."

"Don't worry about it."  Sturm finished off his soda and set the can on the nubby khaki carpet.  "Sorry if I scared ya-- I'm just used to teenagers hangin' around after dark and tryin' to cause trouble.  Sometimes it takes a good zap to scare 'em off."  He chuckled softly then added, "And you don't have to call me 'mister.'  Just Sturm is fine."

"Okay. . . ."  Luft lifted his soda can to his little mouth and drank before leaning back against Sturm's appendage.  The Kracko felt a prickle of static electricity created by the friction of Luft's rubbery surface against his own down.  "Thank you for dinner too.  I wish I could pay you back."

"Um. . . ."  Sturm thought for a moment.  He wasn't used to spending time with _anyone_ , much less a virtual stranger.  But Luft seemed to be an okay guy, and Sturm knew how it felt to be judged by people who didn't even know him.  He finally hit on a way to give Luft a break without seeming like he was patronizing the Drifloon.

"Tell you what!  You can help me on my rounds tomorrow," Sturm said.  "And the word is that the big boss, Mr. Cloudling, is coming by.  If I manage to get his attention for a minute, he'll probably let you stay on for a few days."  His green eye sparkled with a smile.  "He's nice enough but getting absent-minded in his old age.  He probably won't even realize you don't work here!"

"I'll try my best to help you!" Luft said before he was interrupted by a long yawn.  "Oh, excuse me!"

"Heh, you _are_ tired, hunh?"  Sturm patted the little Drifloon on the back then picked up their empty cans and took them to the kitchen.  "You can go on and crash right there on the sofa if you want."

"Thanks, but. . . um, if you don't mind. . . I think I'll drift there with the balloons."  Luft got up from the sofa and carefully removed his hat and cuffs.  He left them on top of the television before floating up beside the bunch of colored balloons.  "I. . . I feel a little more at home here."

"Sure, whatever you want."  Sturm looked at him, feeling a little sad.  The Drifloon seemed very lonely there beside the non-sentient balloons, but Sturm didn't know any other way to help.  "I'll be in the next room if you need anything-- oh, and help yourself to more soda if you get thirsty!"

"Okay. . . good night, Sturm."  Luft gave him a little smile and waved one of his hands at the Kracko.

"Night, Luft."  Sturm waved back and went to his room.

\--

to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Sturm was awakened by the shrill beep of his alarm clock.  He rumbled sleepily as he hauled himself out of bed and headed for the shower.  He forgot all about Luft-- until he found the Drifloon washing himself in the bathroom sink.

"O-oh!" Luft stammered when Sturm's downy bulk filled the small bathroom's door.  "I-I'm sorry, did I wake you up?  I was trying not to splash. . . ."

Sturm blinked the sleep from his large eye.  "Hunh. . . ?  Oh, nuh. . . alarm. . . ."  He shook himself a little and tried to wake up.  "I mean, my alarm clock went off.  I gotta get up early for work."  Chuckling a little, Sturm looked down at Luft, who was "showering" under the faucet in the sink.  His purple surface shone with water, and his puff of hair hung limply over his round "head."

"Go on and finish up," Sturm said as he squeezed past the sink to the shower.  "I'm just gonna get a shower."  The Kracko started running the water then grabbed a towel to spread on the floor; he always dripped everywhere when he was wet.  When he looked back at Luft, the Drifloon was using one heart-shaped hand to turn off the water as he stared up at Sturm.

"Something wrong?" asked Sturm before he realized this was the first time Luft had seen him without his security uniform on.  Not that there was anything to see-- many Krackos didn't wear clothes at all, and Luft hadn't minded taking off his own accessories in front of Sturm.  Still, the Drifloon's gaze embarrassed Sturm a little.

"You. . . you're big," said Luft.  "I saw a few other clouds like you when I flew through the park yesterday, but. . . but none of them was as large."

"Well. . . yeah.  Members of my species are called Krackos, by the way.  I'm a space Kracko specifically, and we tend to be a bit bigger than planet-dwellin' Krackos."  Sturm pushed into the shower past his vinyl curtain-- a drab, sea-foam green job he kept meaning to replace-- to escape Luft's gaze.  For the first time since he was an adolescent, Sturm wished he weren't so bulky and hulking.

Sturm couldn't hear anything over the shower, which saved him from any further conversation about his size.  He drizzled some White Cloud shampoo on his appendages and worked it into a rich lather in his down.  Sturm then gave each of his spikes a quick swipe to make them shiny before rinsing off under the spray.  By the time he was finished, the grey Kracko was soaked to the skin, and his down hung off of him in drenched clumps.  He turned off the shower and wrung out his down as best he could, then he gave a good shake before floating out from behind the curtain.

Luft was still there, but he had finished his own bath.  He now sat on the sink counter with a hand towel-- the one Sturm used to dry his appendages at the sink-- draped over his top and sides.  The Drifloon's strings dangled his yellow hands into the sink.  Under his down, Sturm felt his mouth turn up in a smile; Luft looked so cute, he couldn't help it.

"If your hair's still wet, you can use my down dryer."  Sturm lowered his body to the ground and wrapped the towel there around himself, blotting up as much of the excess water as he could.

"What's a down dryer?" Luft asked.

"This."  Sturm opened the cabinet under his sink and pulled out a blow dryer.  "It puts out hot air, and when I turn it on my down, it dries out the water.  If I didn't have this, it would take me all day to dry!"  He plugged the dryer in and turned it on, blowing the warm air into his down to demonstrate.

"O-okay, I'll try it," Luft said, speaking loudly over the sound of the dryer.  Sturm reached over and took the towel off of the Drifloon, then tried blowing some air on the damp puff of hair on his top.

"Whoooa--!" squealed Luft as he found himself tumbling end over end in the air, buffeted by the dryer.  Sturm burst out laughing.

"Oops!  Sorry about that. . . ."  He turned the dryer down to its lowest setting, then he put an appendage across Luft's strings to hold the Drifloon still.  This time, Luft managed to stay upright, and Sturm quickly dried off his hair.

"Here, you can style it with this."  Sturm handed Luft his own soft Kracko brush, then set about drying out his down.  By the time he had finished, Luft was done grooming himself.  His fluffy hair sat in neat curls atop his "head," with a single tuft sticking out in back.  Sturm brushed himself off quickly.

"There. . . now I just have to get my uniform on, then we can go get some breakfast before work."

"Okay, I'll go put my hat on!" said Luft.  "Th-thanks for letting me use your dryer and stuff. . . ."  He paused to admire himself in the mirror.  "I haven't looked this good in ages!"

"No problem."  Sturm ended up smiling again as he went to his bedroom to dress.

When the Kracko joined Luft in the living room, he was wearing his uniform: a shirt-like garment with a tie, his badge, and his belt of keys.  He grabbed his hat from the kitchen counter and adjusted it between his top two spikes.  Luft was wearing his own bowler hat and cuffs as he looked Sturm over.

"If you're a security guard, why don't you have any weapons?" asked the Drifloon.

"I don't need any!" Sturm bragged.  He crackled some static electricity from the tip of a couple spikes.  "I can just zap any bad guys I run into!"

"O-oh."  Luft drew back a little, and Sturm quickly extinguished the sparks; the last thing he wanted to was scare his new. . . well, friend.  "I don't have any special powers.  I know a few attacks, but. . . but I'm not very strong."  Luft lowered his black eyes and sighed.  "I bet I won't be any help to you."

Sturm had just been thinking the same thing, but for once, he felt like being nice instead of honest.  "Don't worry, we'll find somethin' you can do!  Hey, let's go. . . . We gotta hurry if we want time for breakfast before I go on duty!"

He gathered up the balloons he had kept overnight, herded the Drifloon out of the small house, and locked his door, then Sturm led Luft back to the park.  He let them both in the back gate, and they headed for the food court after returning the balloons to their cart.

"Do you eat all your meals here?" Luft asked.

"Erm. . . well, yeah.  I get my soda at a little grocery store up the road, though."  For the first time, Sturm wondered what it would be like to cook his own meals or at least eat somewhere else once in a while: it was a bit embarrassing to realize that he had been living on greasy carnival food for a year now.  Still, it would have to do for that morning's breakfast.

Remembering how little Luft had eaten the night before, Sturm bought a single funnel cake for both of them.  Usually the Kracko ate a whole cake all by himself, but he decided it was about time he went on a diet anyhow.  He also got two bottles of milk from the cooler before sitting down with Luft at a nearby picnic table.

"Here you go."  Sturm passed the Drifloon one of the bottles before starting in on his side of the funnel cake with a plastic fork.

"Thank you. . . ."  Luft tried a bite of the cake and beamed.  "Oh, this is good!"  He ate several more bites then sipped at his milk.  "Sturm. . . thank you for taking care of me.  I-- I didn't even know you before yesterday, but no one else has ever been so nice to me."

Sturm felt himself flush under his down; praise always embarrassed him.  "Well, uh. . . it's nothin'.  You're a nice guy, and I like you.  And it's not like you take up much room!" he added with a chuckle, trying to laugh off his embarrassment.

Luft, however, hardly heard the last statement.  "You. . . like me?  Really?"  His whole face seemed to light up.  "I thought a big tough cloud-- I mean, Kracko like you would think I was too wimpy to be your friend!"

"Of course not."  Sturm took a gulp of milk.  "I don't have many. . . well, any friends, so I'm probably not too good at it.  But. . . I'll be yours.  I'll try my best."

"Sturm. . . ."  Luft's little black eyes suddenly looked very shiny, and he hurried to stuff a bite of cake in his mouth.  Finally he mumbled, "I don't have any friends either, so I'll be yours, too."

They finished their meal in embarrassed silence; Sturm ended up eating most of the cake and polishing off Luft's milk, but the Drifloon seemed full and happy.  Before Sturm could pick up the empty, grease-spotted paper plate, Luft had swept up all their trash in his hands and swooped over to the garbage can.

"Just in time to open up!" Sturm said as they floated towards the front gate.  "Ready for your first day of work?"

Luft looked a bit nervous, but he managed a smile on the X across his face.  "Yes, I'm ready."

After Sturm unlocked the front gate to let in Cloudy Park's first guests of the day, he started his rounds with Luft at his side.  Sturm showed the Drifloon his morning duties: patrolling the edges of the park to look for damage to the cloudy walls and periodically checking the back gate to be sure it stayed locked.

"I'm afraid it's not too excitin'," Sturm said.  "But in the afternoon, I get to work on the midway-- you'll like that."

"I don't mind this!"  Luft trailed his little heart-shaped hand along the fluffy wall of the park.  "But I wish I could help you more.  Maybe I could go check the gate for you next time!"

Sturm hesitated: what if someone was causing trouble at the gate and Luft got hurt?  Then he reminded himself that in all his months at the park, no one had _ever_ caused trouble at the back gate.

"Okay, sure.  Give it about ten more minutes, then you can go," he told the Drifloon.  Luft returned safely, so Sturm let him be in charge of the gate for the rest of the morning.  About thirty minutes before noon, Sturm took Luft to the food court for their lunch break.  Another security guard, this one a dark Kracko, was working the court, and he and Sturm nodded at each other in a professional way.  Still, Sturm noticed the other giving him and the Drifloon an odd look.

 _Probably wonders what I'm doing with a guest,_ Sturm thought, then he glanced over at Luft.  The Drifloon was watching the crowds of visitors with a smile across the X on his face.  _But who cares what anyone else thinks?  Luft's enjoyin' himself._  
  
As Elle had noted the day before, Sturm usually skipped lunch, but he remembered how little the Drifloon had eaten at breakfast.

"Would you like some lunch?" he asked Luft.  When Luft nodded eagerly, Sturm looked over the food stalls.  There wasn't much healthy food available at the park, and Sturm decided that he would go to the grocery store the next day, his day off.  _From now on, I'll make us sandwiches for lunch. . . .  If Luft keeps eating **this** stuff, he'll get too fat to fly!_

Luft decided he wanted French fries, so Sturm bought a carton of them and a soda, then sat down with Luft at the same wooden picnic table where they had eaten breakfast.

"Don't you want some?" Luft offered.  He picked up a fry in his hand and started to munch on it with his little mouth.

They _did_ smell good, but Sturm demurred.  "No, they're for you!"  Luft ate most of them but left the last couple for Sturm, along with half the soda.  Sturm had a feeling the kind Drifloon did it on purpose, but he finished off the meal all the same.

When Sturm's break was over, he guided Luft out on the midway.  Despite the Drifloon's fear of being scorned for his race, Luft showed no signs of worry over the crowds of beings enjoying the park's attractions.  Many of the guests were Krackos of all sizes and types, but there were also a good many Louds and other species such as Waddle Doos and Dees, Flamers, and Starmen.  None of the visitors gave Luft a second look-- until Sturm and Luft took their post beside the Ferris wheel.

A little Waddle Doo was toddling by with her mother, but she stopped in her tracks and stared up at Luft.  Her single blue eye grew wide as she tugged on her mother's hand.

"M-mommy. . . ."

"O-oh no," Luft whimpered, huddling against Sturm's side.  The Kracko could feel him trembling.

"Mommy, _look_."  The child's mother-- identical to the daughter right down to her velvety orange fur and beribboned tuft of hair-- finally turned to look.  Sturm tensed, fully expecting the mother to grab the kid and run away screaming. . . but it was the child who screamed.

" _B'loon!"_ she bellowed.  " _In a **hat**!_ "

Luft jumped.  "Um. . . ."

"Yes, dear, what a nice balloon," the mother tried to calm her child.  She seemed to be more worried about offending Sturm than about Luft abducting her daughter.  "I'm sorry, sir, she just really likes balloons."

Sturm tried to hide a chuckle of relief.  "Not a problem, ma'am.  I think we have some for sale over there in the--"

"Hi Mister B'loon!"  The young Waddle Doo had pulled away from her mother and gone straight up to Luft.  She gazed up at him admiringly.

"Um. . . h-hi there."  Luft lowered himself in the air until he was at her eye level.  The Waddle Doo's eye widened all over again.

" ** _Talking_** _b'loon!_ "

"Goodness!  He really _is_ alive!" said her mother.  "Is he a new attraction?"

"Er, well," Sturm stammered.  "Not officially, but--"

"That balloon just talked!" a young Loud interrupted from a short distance away.  He raced over to join the Waddle Doo, soon followed by several other kids.  Sturm worried that Luft would be overwhelmed, but the Drifloon actually looked delighted; he warmed up to the children right away.  What's more, the kids kept coming: whenever a parent would drag one child away, another would run or float over.

Sturm was keeping a close eye on Luft to be sure none of the kids got too rough with the little Drifloon, when he caught sight of a very large, elderly Kracko with brilliantly white down.  He wore a showman's top hat, and an animal trainer's whip was tucked into the cummerbund of his tuxedo.

 _Mr. Cloudling!_ Sturm thought.  So the rumors that the big boss was coming by had been true-- and maybe Sturm had a chance to get Luft a job.

Mr. Cloudling had been drifting down the midway, admiring his property in a grandfatherly way, but he stopped when he noticed the crowd of children and parents gathered near the Ferris wheel.  Cloudling moved closer to investigate, then blinked his misty brown eye in surprise.  He looked around and spotted Sturm.

"Young man!" Cloudling called as he approached the guard.  "Erm. . . Stan, is it?"

"Sturm, sir."

"Ah, of course."  The boss glanced back at Luft.  "What's going on there?  Those children seem fascinated by that strange looking balloon. . . ."

"Oh, um. . . well, he's a-- a friend of mine," Sturm explained.  "His name is Luft."

"He?   A living balloon, eh?"  Cloudling's eye shone in a smile.  "How interesting!"

"Yes, sir."  Seeing his chance, Sturm went on, "He's just-- visiting me, so I thought I'd show him the park.  The children noticed him, and he started to entertain them.  I guess he's a natural!"

"I see, I see."  Cloudling eyed the small crowd another minute, then he turned back to Sturm.  "Could you ask your friend to come speak with me a moment?"  
  
"Yes, sir!"  Sturm hurried over to Luft.  The summons from Cloudling could mean one of two things: either Cloudling wanted Luft to stop entertaining his guests without permission. . . or he wanted to _give_ Luft his permission.  Sturm was betting on the latter.

"Luft!"  Sturm floated up behind the Drifloon and murmured to him, "Come over here a sec-- my boss wants to talk to you!"

Luft turned and looked up at him, his eyes wide.  "Y-your boss?  Okay. . . ."  As he started to follow Sturm, his original fan, the little Waddle Doo, started to wail.

"Nooo, don't go, Mister B'loon!"

"He'll be right back," Sturm assured her as he tugged Luft over to Mr. Cloudling.  The small Drifloon trembled as he looked up at the boss.

"Y-y-yes, sir?"

"Stan has told me all about you, Mr. Loft," Cloudling boomed.  "You have quite a way with those children!"

"Th-thank you. . . .  I'm glad I can make them happy."

"Then how would you like to do this every day?" the boss asked.  "We haven't had a new attraction in a while, and I'm sure you'd be a big hit.  Let's see, you could be the. . . hmm. . . I've got it!  The Amazing Living Balloon!"

It wasn't the most creative title in the world, but Luft nodded, bobbing up and down in the air rapidly.  "Oh yes, sir!  I'd love to work here!"

Cloudling's eye shown in a smile.  "Excellent!  You can start today if you want!  In fact, go ahead and go with Sturm today when he collects his paycheck; we'll give you one too for your day's work.  Oh, this is just wonderful. . . .  I can see it now, all the wonderful signs our advertising department will create to promote you!  All the children who will flock to our gates!"  He started to drift off towards the front gate in a daydream of profit.

"Thank you, sir!" Luft called after him.  "Thank you so much!"  He turned to beam up at Sturm.  "D-did you hear that?  I can work here-- every day!  With you!"

"I heard," Sturm smiled back.  He patted Luft with an appendage, then gave him a gentle push towards the waiting crowd of children.  "And you'd better go get back to work!  My job in the afternoons is to keep an eye on the Ferris wheel and check it between runs, so I'll be right here if you need me."

"Okay!"  Luft paused, then he threw both of his strings around the big Kracko in a hug.  Sturm's face grew hot under his down as he thought of how many people could see him being hugged by a balloon. . . but it also made him feel warm _inside_ , too.  He gave Luft an awkward little squeeze with an appendage, then the Drifloon hurried back to the children.

\--

to be continued


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the day passed smoothly. Luft attracted a crowd throughout the afternoon, and Sturm watched closely to be sure no one caused the Drifloon any trouble. The park closed at sunset, except during the busy summer months, but even by then, Luft seemed exhausted. He trailed after Sturm, his strings dragging, as the Kracko went to the park office to pick up their pay then headed for the park gates.

"You think you'll be able to keep this up?" Sturm asked. He spoke casually, although he was a little worried about Luft's health.

"Y-yes, of course! I'm just. . . just a little tired."

"Well, the park's closed tomorrow-- since we're open all weekend, Mr. Cloudling closes the first day of the week. You can rest up. And we'll go to the store and get some good, healthy food so you'll have more energy."

"That sounds good. . . ." They had reached the front gate, and Luft leaned against the cloudy wall, his little black eyes half-closed. Sturm put his padlock on the gate then turned to his new friend.

"Luft. . . ." The Kracko floated over and ducked under the Drifloon, scooping him up so that Luft was perched on one of Sturm's fluffy "shoulders."

"Oh!" Luft laughed in surprise and gripped Sturm's down with his hands. "Y-you don't have to carry me. . . ."

"It's not like you weigh anything!" Sturm countered. "You just rest, and I'll go get us some dinner." He went back to the food court, but he visited the cooler first instead of Elle's stand. Sturm took a bottle of milk; he would have to pay for it, but he knew Luft needed the nutrients. One stall had a couple apples left-- the only remotely healthy food the park stocked-- so Sturm picked up those before going to get a corn dog from Elle.

"What, no hot dog tonight?" Elle asked, then she noticed Luft still sitting on Sturm's shoulder. "Hey, who's your friend?"

"His name's Luft," Sturm said. "Mr. Cloudling hired him today to entertain the kids."

"Hey kiddo. I'm Elle," the Loud introduced herself.

"H-hi," mumbled Luft. Elle chuckled and gave Sturm a wink.

"He's a cutie. Nice to see you warmin' up to someone."

"Just gimme my corn dog," Sturm muttered.

Back home in Sturm's small kitchen, the Kracko and the Drifloon ate their dinner together. Luft sat on the counter and took small, neat bites out of one apple as Sturm made himself eat the other. (Fruit was not his favorite kind of food, but he was determined to eat healthier too.) The Kracko was glad to inhale the corn dog after Luft assured him that he, Luft, didn't want it. The Drifloon did drink the milk and eat most of his apple, which made Sturm feel better about Luft's nutrition.

After dinner, Sturm undressed in his bedroom then settled in on the sofa with a can of soda to watch TV, as was his nightly routine. Luft took off his hat and cuffs before sitting down beside the Kracko. Sturm hated dramas and found most comedies stupid, so he usually watched game or real-life police shows. Wheelie of Fortune happened to be on, and at first, Luft had fun trying to guess the phrases before the show's contestants. However, soon the Drifloon started yawning. Halfway through the next show, Sturm glanced down to see that Luft had dozed off; he was leaning against the Kracko's soft side with his face half-hidden in Sturm's down.

 _Poor little guy. . . . I hope workin' at the park won't be too hard on him._  Sturm looked closely to be sure Luft really was asleep then wrapped an appendage around the Drifloon to hold him close. Sturm watched three more Wheelie reruns before nearly falling asleep himself. He wanted to stay up longer-- mostly because he didn't want to leave Luft by himself-- but the Kracko finally gave in and went to bed. First, he made sure that Luft was resting comfortably on the sofa with a cushion under his round body.

In his own bed, Sturm lay awake just long enough to wonder what had come over him. He was used to being on his own-- so why was he now so concerned with Luft's care?  _Because I **always** have been on my own,_ he realized.  _Luft's the first person who's really needed me, and I don't want to let him down. . . . and I don't want him to leave, either._  Even after only a day, Sturm had grown attached to the little Drifloon, and he fell asleep considering that maybe he needed Luft too.

\--

Despite Luft's exhaustion the night before, he was up before Sturm on their day off. In fact, Luft had just finished bathing by the time Sturm slumped into the bathroom for his own shower. The Drifloon-- now very shiny with exceedingly fluffy hair-- smiled at Sturm.

"We're going shopping today, right?" Luft asked.

"Yeah." Sturm yawned, closing his eye and opening his little mouth wide. "We'll have to get some breakfast on the way. Sorry but I don't have any food in the house. . . ."

"Oh, don't worry about that! I have a plan for next week!" The Drifloon grinned and patted Sturm on a fluffy appendage as he left the bathroom. "I'll be ready to go when you are!"

Sturm dressed more casually than he did for work, putting on a baseball cap between his top spikes and strapping on a brown leather belt with a money clip, which held his pay from the day before. Fortunately, he was paid well and had quite a bit saved up in the local bank; he would be able to afford plenty of good food for Luft.

The Drifloon was waiting in the living room for him. Luft tucked his own pay into the inside band of his hat then set the bowler on his fluffy head.

"In a couple weeks, we can get you an account at my bank," Sturm commented as they left the house. "It's not safe to keep too much cash around."

"Okay." Luft floated along cheerfully, trailing his strings behind him. "But I want to use some of it today to buy you breakfast!"

"Hunh?" Sturm glanced at him, surprised. "You don't have to do that!"

"But I want to! You've been so nice to me, and I haven't done anything for you."

"Of course you have," Sturm countered, remembering his feelings the night before. Still, he was a little embarrassed to share those with Luft. "Uh, you made me look real good in front of the boss-- I 'discovered' you, hehe. And. . . well, you're good company."

Luft's face lit up. "So are you, Sturm. You're a great friend!"

Sturm took the Drifloon into the small town just past the amusement park. The town was called Cloudy Park as well, and it was little more than a crossroads lined with souvenir shops and a couple convenience stores-- mostly there for the convenience of the tourists. However, the town also boasted a grocery where Sturm always bought his few needs. Next to that was a diner, and it was here that Sturm and Luft went first.

"Hi Sturm," the waitress, an aging Waddle Doo, greeted the Kracko once he and Luft were seated at a booth. "Haven't seen you around in a while."

"Yeah, Marnie, I've been eatin' on my own lately." Sturm gestured to Luft, who was sitting across the table from him. "This is my friend Luft. He started workin' at the park yesterday."

"Hi there, Luft." Marnie handed the Drifloon a menu, although she had to stand on her toes to reach over the top of the table. "We don't have too much on the menu, but it's all good."

"Thank you. . . ." Luft leaned over the menu, looking it over with his shiny black eyes.

Marnie gave Sturm a menu too then asked, "What d'you boys want to drink?"

"Coffee. Sugar, no cream." Sturm looked at Luft. "Do you drink coffee?"

"N-not really. Um. . . . Do. . . do you have orange juice?" Luft asked Marnie.

She looked surprised at the simple request. "Of course, honey. That what you want?" When Luft nodded eagerly, Marnie chuckled at Sturm, "You've been giving him nothin' but that strawberry soda, right?"

"We had milk last night!" Sturm said indignantly.

"Okay, okay." Marnie's large eye sparkled up at Luft. "But you order yourself whatever you want, little guy. Don't let this big galoot talk you into all sugar and grease like he eats." As Marnie toddled off, Luft looked at Sturm.

"You're not a galoot," the Drifloon pointed out, then he went back to perusing his menu.

"Don't mind her," Sturm chuckled, although he was a little touched all the same. "She likes to pick on me. What do you think you want to eat?"

Luft tapped on the menu with one of his yellow hands. "Yogurt!"

"Oh yuck," Sturm blurted out. "How can you eat that stuff?"

Luft looked up at him. "You don't like yogurt?" When Sturm just grimaced, Luft persisted, "Have you ever tried it before?"

"Uh. . . well, no. But it smells gross!"

"Then taste it without smelling it!" Before Sturm could rebut, Marnie returned their drinks, as well as a notepad and pencil.

"You boys ready?"

"Two yogurts, please," Luft said without giving Sturm a chance to order. "With berries and granola."

"Luft! I don't want yogurt," Sturm groaned. Marnie raised the brow of her single eye and chuckled.

"You're going to try it," insisted Luft. "Then if you don't like it, you can get something else. You need to at least try some healthy foods."

"Okay, two yogurts!" Marnie left with a leer at Sturm, obviously pleased at seeing him bested by a small balloon. Still, Sturm couldn't be upset with Luft; the Drifloon meant well. . . _And maybe he's right,_ Sturm thought.

He almost changed his mind when Marnie brought their breakfast. The yogurt looked as gloppy and unappetizing as ever, but the Kracko mimicked Luft in mixing in the granola and berries. Luft started munching away on his meal happily, so Sturm scooped up a spoonful of his own and tasted it gingerly.

"Well?" Luft looked at Sturm with a smile across the X on his face as the Kracko chewed and swallowed.

"It. . . it's not bad," Sturm had to admit. He tried another bite. "In fact, the granola's really good."

"I told you!" Luft beamed. "Go on and eat some more. It'll fill you up, even though it doesn't look like much." After eating more of his yogurt and sipping at the orange juice, Luft added, "I'm going to make breakfast for us every day from now on! And I'll add granola to my shopping list, since you like it."

"Aw, Luft. . . you're makin' me feel guilty, doin' all this stuff for me," Sturm said around large bites of his breakfast, which was beginning to taste better and better to him.

"Well, you can start cooking us dinner," Luft said. "Miss Elle's food tastes good, but you can't eat it every night."

"Uh, well, I've been eatin' it every night for a long time," Sturm admitted. "But you're right, I could do better. I'm not that great a cook, but I can manage the basics. Between the two of us, we'll get along."

True to his word, Luft paid for breakfast and left Marnie a generous tip. Sturm took Luft next door to the small grocery, but the Drifloon led the way once they were inside. He had apparently been planning for the trip, for he picked up a shopping basket and promptly started loading it with a loaf of bread, eggs, and milk. Soon he had Sturm carrying a basket of his own for the granola, some fresh fruit, and a few other items. After Sturm paid for their purchases, he and Luft started for home.

"What do you do on your days off, besides shop?" Luft asked, swinging a shopping bag from his strings.

"Uh. . . well, I clean up the house and stuff, but mostly I just watch TV or take naps." For the first time, Sturm was a little embarrassed about his sedentary lifestyle.

"I can help you clean," Luft offered. "And then, maybe we can--"

"Hang on," Sturm interrupted. They had reached the edge of the amusement park, and a movement near the cloudy outer wall had caught his large eye. Cloudy Park was closed, but someone was inside-- and climbing up over the top of the wall.

"Hey!" bellowed Sturm as he pelted towards the wall. "Stop right there!" As he got closer, he saw that the intruder was a young Knuckle Joe carrying a bulky sack-- and that he wasn't stopping. The frightened youngster stared at the Kracko for an instant; then he dropped to the ground outside the wall and started running. Sturm started after him, but the large Kracko couldn't keep up with the athletic young creature, even with the sack the Joe had. Sturm might have been able to hit the kid with a lightning attack, but he didn't want to hurt the Knuckle Joe, just stop him.

"Ugh," Sturm panted as he began to slow. The kid had started running back towards town, and Sturm knew he was beat.  _I'm too out of shape,_ he realized.  _I can't even do my job. . . ._

Then he saw Luft dash past him. The Drifloon had set down his bag and was now darting towards the Knuckle Joe with his strings extended in front of him.

"Luft!" wheezed Sturm, suddenly terrified that the Drifloon might get hurt. Luft ignored him and pelted after the Knuckle Joe; to Sturm's amazement, the Drifloon actually caught up with him. Luft flung his strings about the kid and pinned his arms to his sides. The Joe stumbled and dropped to his knees, struggling against the constricting strings.

Sturm finally caught up to them. "Great work, Luft," he puffed, beaming at the Drifloon with his eye before glaring down at the kid. "Just what were you doing in there?"

"N-nothin'," the Knuckle Joe grumbled. "What's it to you, anyway?"

Sturm flashed his security badge, which he wore on his money clip when he was off duty. He tugged open the sack the kid had been carrying; it was half-filled with prizes from the carnival games at Cloudy Park.

"Oh, c'mon, kid," Sturm groaned. "You know this junk isn't worth anything!"

"Th-then why's it so hard to win?" the Knuckle Joe whined. "I played all day yesterday and didn't get nothin'!"

"Geez, so you go and steal it instead?" Sturm rolled his eye and turned to Luft. "Okay, let him up, Luft, but keep a grip on him. We're gonna go put this stuff back."

Sturm took their "prisoner" into the park and made him return the stolen prizes-- with one of Luft's strings firmly wrapped around the Knuckle Joe's wrist the whole time. Technically, Sturm could have turned the kid in to the police, but he wasn't really interested in getting anyone in serious trouble-- or in dealing with the associated paperwork. Instead, he asked Luft to let the Joe loose outside the park gates. The miscreant mumbled his thanks for being released, rather to Sturm's surprise, then hurried off with his sack.

"Luft, that was amazing!" said Sturm when they were alone. "I didn't know you're so fast-- or that you can attack like that!"

"I-it's a simple attack," Luft murmured. "It's called 'constrict'-- most Drifloons know it."

"Well, it was perfect," the Kracko assured him, despite Luft's modesty. Sturm wrapped an appendage around the Drifloon and gave him a tight hug. Luft's face turned pink in a blush, and he looked up at Sturm happily.

"I-I'm glad I could help you, Sturm." Luft brought up both strings to hug Sturm back, nearly hidden in the Kracko's thick down.

"And you were right about me needin' to eat better," Sturm added with a self-conscious chuckle. "I couldn't keep up with that kid-- I gotta get in better shape!"

"We'll work together on it," Luft assured him. "Maybe. . . maybe I can strengthen my attacks too, then I can help you more!"

"Okay, that's a deal." Sturm looked down at the Drifloon affectionately. "Now come on, let's go home."

\--

to be continued


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks passed as Sturm fell into a new routine. Luft did fix breakfast every day-- often just granola and milk, which suited Sturm very well, although sometimes the Drifloon cooked eggs or toasted bread too. After breakfast, the two went to work together, then Sturm prepared dinner. At first his meals were simpler than Luft's breakfast, but after a few mistakes, the Kracko learned to make delicious and healthy fare. They took turns making sack lunches, and Sturm grew to look forward to their break every day, when they'd sit together in the food court and eat.

What made Sturm proudest, however, was the change to his lifestyle. Instead of crashing in front of the television after dinner, he and Luft would go outside. Even though it was dark by then, a few streetlights in Sturm's neighborhood lit the area enough for the Drifloon and Kracko to see, and they spent at least an hour exercising every evening. Sturm started by floating around the neighborhood at a brisk clip, until he was able to zip from house to house without running out of breath as he had at the beginning. He graduated to strength training with various rocks and small boulders in his overgrown yard.

Luft worked on building his attacks. Sturm let the Drifloon practice Constrict on him until even Sturm couldn't break free of Luft's grasp. The Drifloon also learned a few stronger attacks thanks to their sparring, and he could eventually lift some rocks even with his thin strings.

After one such workout, Sturm took a long shower-- that was another change to his routine, showering at night to wash the sweat and dust out of his down. As he rinsed off, he was pleased to notice that while he usually looked as large as ever due to his puffy down, his small body underneath all the fluff was tighter and harder than before.

When Sturm got out of the shower and began to towel off, he looked over Luft, who was washing in the sink. The Drifloon didn't look any different, having no visible muscles to begin with, but his rubbery surface shone, and he almost always had a smile on his X now. Sturm watched as Luft used his little yellow hands to rinse out his puff of hair and turn off the water, then the Drifloon looked up at him.

"Everything okay, Sturm?"

"Uh, yeah." Sturm looked away, embarrassed that he had been caught staring at Luft. "Just lookin' at how shiny you've gotten."

"Heh, I-I guess it's all the good food." Luft dried himself off with Sturm's hand towel. "You look nice too. . . . Your down is so fluffy and thick now."

"Thanks." Sturm took out his down dryer. "You want me to dry your hair?"

"Okay." Luft floated over to Sturm and curled his strings around one of the Kracko's spikes to steady himself as Sturm dried the Drifloon's fluffy hair. Sturm turned the dryer on himself for a few moments, then picked up his brush in one appendage.

"Heh, let me comb your hair out," he chuckled. "It's sticking up all over the place!"

Luft leaned against the Kracko's side as Sturm brushed the Drifloon's hair. The Kracko was used to careful grooming, as all Cloudy Park employees were instructed to come to work looking their best; he soon had Luft's patch of fluff neatly in place. Sturm started brushing his own down, but Luft didn't move away; instead the Drifloon nestled closer to Sturm's soft side.

Sturm felt a by-now familiar warmth filling his insides. It made him happy to see Luft happy-- especially because Luft was happy with _him_. Even though he had never thought of himself as someone who needed company, Sturm now couldn't imagine life without the little Drifloon. He folded an appendage over Luft's round back and hugged him.

"You sure you're okay, Sturm?" Luft mumbled into his down. He hugged Sturm back nevertheless.

"Yeah. I'm just, uh. . . ." Sturm made himself go on. "I'm really glad you came here, Luft. I would be lonely without you."

"S-sturm. . . ." Luft squeezed him all the tighter. "I would be lonely too-- I _was_ lonely until I met you."

Sturm was a little sorry to part from Luft after that; the Drifloon went to his usual sleeping spot on the sofa, and Sturm had a hard time falling asleep in his own bed. He wished Luft were sleeping next to him, snuggled into Sturm's down. Sturm imagined holding Luft in his appendages. . . brushing the Drifloon's surface with his eyelashes in the Kracko version of a kiss. . . .

"Mngh," Sturm grumbled. Since when did he go around thinking of kissing people, much less other males? Well, since he had met Luft, he supposed. Despite all their differences in size, appearance, and temperament, Sturm wanted to be with the Drifloon.

 _I love him, I might as well admit it_ , the Kracko thought. Of course that raised the question of whether Luft returned his feelings. It was possible, considering how affectionate Luft was with him, but perhaps that was just how the Drifloon showed friendship.

Rumbling, Sturm turned over onto his back and stared up at his ceiling.  _Maybe I should tell him how I feel. . . but then, what if he doesn't love me that way? He might leave me. . . ._ Sturm fell asleep without reaching a decision.

\--

The next morning was uneventful; Luft scrambled some eggs for their breakfast, then they went to work as usual. Sturm managed to behave normally, although he was still debating if he should tell Luft how he felt. After their lunch break, they went to the midway for their afternoon work: Luft hurried over to the group of children that had already gathered, and Sturm started inspecting the Ferris wheel.

The Kracko was around the back side of the wheel's base when he heard a sharp cry. He was used to hearing squeals from kids who had fallen down or who just didn't get what they wanted from their parents-- but this cry was squeaky and high-pitched. . . a balloon's cry.

"Luft!" Sturm gasped, nearly falling over himself as he dashed around the side of the Ferris wheel. He heard another, whinier cry, but that one was definitely from a kid. When Sturm finally reached Luft's area, he saw a crowd of stunned kids surrounding the Drifloon and one very large Waddle Dee kid. The overweight youth was tugging far too hard on Luft's right string.

"Want balloon!" he bellowed to his mother, also a Big Waddle Dee. He tried to pull Luft to him as the poor Drifloon struggled to free himself.

"Please, let me go!" Luft whimpered, then he cried out again as the Waddle Dee yanked on his string. Sturm was horrified to see tears well up in the Drifloon's black eyes.

"Let go!" Sturm growled, pushing his way through the crowd towards the child. The kid's mother seemed oblivious both to Sturm and to Luft's pain; she just patted the kid on the back and turned away.

"I don't think that one's for sale, honey. Come on, I'll buy you a Kracko-shaped one!"

"Want talking balloon!" screeched the boy. He jerked harder than ever on Luft's string, and the Drifloon wailed in pain. The tears overflowed from his eyes and rolled down his round, purple cheeks.

"You're hurting Mister Balloon!" one of the other kids, a small Co-Kracko, protested. He came forward and shoved the Waddle Dee with no effect whatsoever. But then Sturm loomed over them both, and the Co-Kracko squeaked and darted away.

"Let him go!" Sturm roared. He poked the kid's hand sharply with one of his spikes until the Waddle Dee let go. The fat kid's face screwed up as he began to cry too, but Sturm had a lot of experience with bad kids and was well aware that he was faking it. The mother Waddle Dee did not seem aware of that at all, though, and she turned back to her boy in indignation.

"How dare you hurt my boy, you brute!" she cried at Sturm, but the Kracko hardly heard her. All his attention was focused on Luft: the Drifloon was trembling as he floated in the air, and his right string hung limp and motionless from his body.

"Luft!" Sturm hurried to him and plucked him right out of the air, cradling his little body in fluffy appendages. He brushed the tears away with his down and murmured, "Are you okay?"

"My string hurts," Luft whimpered.

"Who's your supervisor?" The mother's shrill voice interrupted them, and Sturm looked up in irritation to see her glaring up at him. "You'll lose your job for this!" Her kid was still sniffling next to her, but he looked a little worried too as he gazed up at Luft.

"You can go tell Mr. Cloudling himself!" Sturm retorted. "And when you do, I'll tell him how your kid injured a park employee! You'll be lucky if he doesn't sue you!"

Now both the mother and child looked worried, but Sturm didn't feel like wasting any more time on them. He stormed through the crowd toward the back gate; although leaving work was more likely to get him in trouble than Mrs. Waddle Dee was, Luft was all that concerned him for the moment. Sturm carried the injured Drifloon home, where he carefully laid Luft on the sofa and removed his hat and cuffs.

"Luft. . . do you need to go to the doctor?" Sturm hovered over the Drifloon, stroking his hair with an appendage.

"N-no. . . my string's still there, right?" Luft gave him a watery smile. "I think he just sprained it. It'll be okay if I rest it."

"I'm going to take the rest of the day off to stay with you," Sturm muttered, but Luft shook his "head."

"No, I don't want to get you in trouble! I'll be okay here, if you'll let them know I won't be back to work today. Just. . . come straight home, okay?"

Sturm managed a smile with his eye. "Of course I will. But here, before I go. . . ." He tucked a cushion behind Luft to prop him up, then got him the remote control. "Anything else?"

"Um, can I have a soda too?" Luft smiled a little more broadly, and Sturm chuckled.

"Sure." He brought Luft a can of soda and opened it for him, then hesitated beside the Drifloon. "I'll be home as soon as I can." Sturm leaned down and gave Luft a tender hug, which Luft returned. . . but only with one string.

Back at the park, Sturm reported Luft's injury then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to keep his attention on his job. There was no sign of the Waddle Dee family, and other than a few disappointed kids who had wanted to see "Mister Balloon," Sturm had no trouble. Still, he couldn't keep from worrying about Luft. What if the Drifloon were injured more seriously than he let on?

 _Tomorrow's our day off,_ Sturm tried to reassure himself.  _I'll take him to the doctor if it's that bad._

Nevertheless, Sturm rushed through his duties of locking up so he could get home to Luft. When Sturm let himself in his front door, the first thing he saw was Luft lying motionless on the sofa. Although he knew logically that a sprained string wouldn't kill the Drifloon, Sturm panicked until he saw Luft expanding and contracting gently as he breathed.

 _Just asleep,_ Sturm sighed. He floated over to the television and switched it off, then looked down at the sleeping Drifloon.  _I wonder if he'll want dinner?_  Deciding that a sprained string probably wouldn't hurt Luft's appetite either, Sturm went to the kitchenette and began preparing Luft's favorite meal: whole wheat pasta with butter. He had just started cutting up some carrots to cook with it when he heard Luft's voice.

"Sturm? Is that you?"

"Yeah!" Sturm abandoned the carrots and hurried back to the sofa. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

"I'm okay." The Drifloon blinked sleepily and rubbed his eyes with his good hand. "Did you get in trouble because of me?"

"No, don't be silly." Sturm stroked Luft's side. "I'm making you some dinner-- you hungry?"

"Yeah! Do you need any help?"

"You stay right there!" Sturm fluffed up Luft's pillow and patted him on the head. "Let me take care of you, okay?" Once he had finished making dinner, Sturm served Luft on the sofa then sat down on the floor beside him to eat. Instead of working out, Sturm stayed beside Luft all evening, watching TV and sharing a candy bar. When he noticed Luft starting to yawn, Sturm chuckled gently.

"Hey, time for bed." He turned off the TV then looked down at the Drifloon. "Um, Luft. . . would. . . would you mind sleeping in my room tonight? I'd rather you stay with me in case you need anything."

Luft blinked up at him then smiled. "Yes, I'd like that. I. . . I get lonely in here by myself at night anyway."

"You should have told me! You could have stayed in my room any time." Sturm scooped the Drifloon up in his appendages and carried him to the bedroom. "Just wake me up if you need me, okay?" After undressing, Sturm lay down on his bed against the wall and placed Luft in front of him. The Drifloon immediately turned to face Sturm and burrowed into his down.

"I will," Luft murmured. He peeked out of the down to look up at Sturm's eye. "Thank you for taking care of me, Sturm."

"It's the least I can do. I just should have been there to keep it from happening in the first place." Sturm sighed heavily.

"No, you were doing your job! It's not your fault." Luft paused then giggled softly. "But if it will make you feel better. . . you could rub my string there where it joins my body. That's the part that hurts."

"Okay." Sturm placed an appendage on the spot where Luft's right string connected to his "neck," then began to rub the area gently. Luft tensed slightly but then relaxed. "Does that help?" Sturm asked. "I don't want to hurt you more."

"Yes, it feels better. . . ." This time Luft sighed, contentedly. "It'll just be sore for a little while, I guess."

"I coulda socked that kid," Sturm muttered after a moment of silence.

"Sturm, it was an accident. . . . He didn't realize he was hurting me."

"Even if that's true-- I just can't stand to see you hurt!" Sturm blurted out. "Luft, when you started to cry, I. . . it made me feel awful." He folded another appendage around Luft's back and held him close as he rubbed his string. Then he lifted the Drifloon a little and held Luft against his eye, fluttering his lashes against Luft's side. Luft didn't have to know it was a kiss, the Kracko decided as he closed his eye afterwards.

"Hehe, that tickles. . . ." Luft hugged Sturm with his good string. "Please don't feel bad, Sturm. I'll be all right. . . and I won't ever cry for long if you're around." Sturm felt a soft touch on his closed eyelid-- several of them in fact. It took him a moment to realize that the touches must be from Luft's little mouth against his skin. Sturm felt his face flush beneath his down.

"Luft?" Sturm opened his eye to see that the Drifloon had turned pink across his X. Luft lowered his eyes.

"S-sorry," he mumbled. "I-I didn't think you would feel it, if I. . . I. . . . Oh!" The Drifloon gave a surprised squeak as Sturm embraced him tightly.

"And what do you think this means to Krackos?" Sturm "kissed" Luft several more times, all over his little round body.

"Hehe, oh, are you. . . k-kissing me? Sturm!"

Sturm opened his eye to smile at Luft, his mind finally made up about revealing his feelings. "Luft, I. . . um, I'll always take care of you, okay? Because I. . . I love you."

The Drifloon blushed all over again, but he whispered, "I-I love you too, Sturm. I trust you more than anyone else. . . and I'll take care of you too! Someone's gotta make you eat right, hehe. . . ."

Sturm lay on his back with Luft nestled into the down on his "chest" and closed his large eye. "I'm making breakfast tomorrow, though-- you need to rest that string. And I can carry you if you want to go to the store with me."

"Okay." Sturm felt more soft balloon kisses on his eyelid, then Luft lay back in the Kracko's down. "I-I've wanted to sleep like this for a long time," Luft admitted. "Your down is so soft. . . hehe, I've been wanting to use you for a pillow!"

Sturm draped an appendage over the Drifloon and held him close. "Well, you'll have a Kracko mattress from now on." He yawned and mumbled, "Sweet dreams, Luft. Wake me if you need anything. . . ."

"Oh, I have everything I need now," murmured Luft.

\--

The End


End file.
